


Ich Diene

by budgeridoo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: D/s, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:18:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/budgeridoo/pseuds/budgeridoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the kinkmeme. Prompt was D/S ItaGer with Feliciano being a cheerful, happy dom.</p><p>Contains consensual D/S relationship, collaring, and toy use.</p><p>(Title means "I serve")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ich Diene

Ludwig looks so  _sweet_  like this.

So sweet, with his hair soft and still disheveled from last night, with his light blue eyes soft and hazy around the edges, with his thin, pale lips curling up the tiniest bit at the corners in a smile. So sweet, kneeling in front of Feliciano on the bed, head half-bowed and hands folded in front of him. So sweet, with the dark blue (not black, it makes Ludwig look a little sallow if he wears too much black, and blue is better on him anyway) collar around his neck.

They’ve done this before, but Feliciano still can’t suppress the pride welling up inside him at that—at the fact that Ludwig who is very, very hesitant about having things around his neck, about going under like this, accepts it so easily. He can’t help pecking Ludwig on the nose as he pulls back from buckling the collar on, brushing a hand across his strong face.

“Good job!” He chirps, since it’s very important that Ludwig hear things like that, and it’s true anyway. Ludwig’s smile grows a tiny bit and becomes a little sheepish, and he ducks his head quickly. Feliciano gives him two more quick kisses, one on each cheek, craning up a bit because even when Ludwig kneels he’s still taller than Feliciano sitting up straight and that’s really not  _fair_  but it’s Ludwig so it’s okay.

And Feliciano would  _love_  to start something right now but last night was really good and he’s kind of hungry, so he gives Ludwig one last kiss and says “I think breakfast would be good about now, don’t you?”, and Ludwig nods and slides off the bed. He pulls on his boxers (the red good-luck ones Feliciano gave him for New Year’s), but Feliciano “tch”s at him when he goes to put anything more on—the house is warm, and Feliciano is not going to pass up the chance for eye candy  _at all_ , except for the part where he doesn’t want to get out of bed at all either. So he grins to himself and stretches out catlike under the blankets and says “I think I’d like pancakes”, watching as Ludwig nods dutifully and leaves the bedroom.

Today is going to be  _great_.

* * *

  
Feliciano eventually does slip out of bed, padding down the hallway in old pajama bottoms, to find coffee already made and Ludwig flipping pancakes. He ducks under one of Ludwig’s arms to give him a hug, resting his head in the hollow of Ludwig’s throat and relaxing into his warmth. 

“Did you sleep well?” He says, brushing his lips along Ludwig’s collarbone.

“Yes—”

“ _Ah_ —”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good!” Feliciano stretches up on his tip-toes to give Ludwig another kiss on the cheek. He knows he’s sort of in the way right now, but he really doesn’t care all that much, and he hums softly and leans against Ludwig, feeling the way his muscles shift.

Soon enough the pancakes are ready, and Feliciano fills his plate and beams at Ludwig (he can’t not, honestly) and, placing an arm low around Ludwig’s waist, walks them both to the table, slowly, since he’s also got to concentrate on holding his coffee in the same hand as his plate. Ludwig doesn’t need to be told to kneel next to Feliciano’s chair, and Feliciano stifles a giggle at Ludwig’s enduring straight-backed posture that really almost never seems to leave him. Feliciano reaches down and ruffles Ludwig’s hair, mussing the soft blond strands until Ludwig leans his head against Feliciano’s thigh.

He starts on his pancakes, which are  _delicious_ , and does not read the newspaper because today is not a day for worrying about other things happening; it’s a day to just spend with Ludwig.

Ludwig clears his throat quietly.

“Oh!” Feliciano quickly cuts a thick slice of the pancakes and hands them to Ludwig, whose long fingers brush against his palm for just longer than it would really take to take the pancakes.

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome!” Feliciano takes another bite and slides his free hand back into Ludwig’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp, and then down to his shoulder to rub at a knot of muscle.

They split the pancakes more or less evenly in this fashion, and Feliciano sticks close to Ludwig as he does the dishes and quite possibly gets in the way, and as soon as the last one is done he says “Ludwig, I  _order_  you to carry me to the couch” and Ludwig makes a huffing sound very close to a laugh and scoops him up.

On the couch, Feliciano settles atop Ludwig comfortably and pulls one of the blankets over them both and walks his fingers along Ludwig’s shoulder and up across his neck and collar to cradle his face and stubbly jaw, and Ludwig rubs slow circles into Feliciano’s back until he sighs and relaxes even more, fitting himself to the shape of Ludwig’s body. He could just about fall asleep like this, really, but instead he nuzzles at the spot just behind Ludwig’s jaw that makes him the tiniest bit squirmy and enjoys the way Ludwig relaxes and softens up for him. In a quiet voice, he talks about his plans for the day in not much detail—mostly staying home and enjoying Ludwig’s company, which makes Ludwig go a little pink around the ears.

He gives up, eventually, on talking, in favor of running his fingers along Ludwig’s high cheekbones and nipping softly at his lips, relishing the rare closeness and affection—usually Ludwig would fluster and get back up, but not now.

* * *

  
Once they finally leave the couch, Ludwig dresses Feliciano and shaves him, and Feliciano smiles so wide at the way Ludwig’s broad fingers move carefully and gently and the little crease of concentration between his eyebrows and the way he kisses the skin just above Feliciano’s hipbone as he buttons up Feliciano’s pants.

Really, he’s just smiling really wide at Ludwig in general. It’s hard not to.

Especially since Ludwig cooks him lunch as well, and kneels dutifully at his side, and, at Feliciano’s signal, shuffles forward shyly to kneel between his legs and suck, lacking a certain amount of finesse but making up for it in enthusiasm, and after Feliciano comes down his throat Ludwig rests his head on Feliciano’s thigh and glances up at him, still blushing, and murmurs “thank you, sir.”

Feliciano pets through Ludwig’s hair, stroking it out of his face, and says “You’re welcome, and would you be really good and clean up?”

Ludwig is, and does.

As soon as Ludwig has finished the dishes, Feliciano pounces, jumping into a hug and kissing the side of his neck right above the collar (lucky it’s pretty thin). Ludwig makes a sort of “eep” sound at Feliciano’s fingers at his sides, but then he huff-laughs through his nose again and Feliciano smiles and goes a bit up on tiptoes to rest his chin on Ludwig’s shoulder. He sneaks his fingers forward onto Ludwig’s stomach, tickling, and Ludwig actually  _jumps_  a little at that.

 _So_  cute.

Feliciano kisses up Ludwig’s neck, quick light ones at first and then slower and wetter until Ludwig flushes hot and red and his breath stutters in his throat.

Grinning, Feliciano slips around to Ludwig’s front and kisses him full on the mouth and Ludwig relaxes into it and holds Feliciano by the shoulders and, still smiling just a bit, Feliciano decides that now would be a great time to start heading for the bedroom.

* * *

  
Once they’re in the bedroom, Ludwig is definitely kissing back and Feliciano’s holding his head in place and straddling him on the bed. Everything is warm, warm-skinned Ludwig and warm haze in Feliciano’s head and warm sheets beneath them, and pulling away from Ludwig to get at the nightstand where they keep the ropes is a sacrifice but it’s one that Feliciano is definitely willing to make.

He presses Ludwig’s wrists back to the headboards, and there is a long moment where if he wanted Ludwig could pull away easily, so easily, but instead he shudders a little and sighs out a breath and lets Feliciano tie his hands to each other through the slats of the headboard.

Tugging quickly on the ropes to make sure they’re secure, Feliciano takes out a cloth gag from the nightstand and says sweetly “Open your mouth please?” and makes very sure not to accidentally get any of Ludwig’s hair tied in the knot.

He pulls back, draws a hand down the side of Ludwig’s face—he looks up from the sheets, eyes half-hooded and shoulders relaxed and  _at ease_  and it makes Feliciano’s breath stop for a second—and then leans back in to peck Ludwig’s nose.

“What’s the sign if you want to stop?” It can’t hurt to check.

Ludwig knocks sharply on the headboard with his knuckles twice in quick succession.

“Good!” And Feliciano seats himself squarely on Ludwig’s chest, reaching back to palm him quickly.

And he stays there, kissing Ludwig everywhere he can manage and running his fingers and palms along thick muscle and soft skin until Ludwig’s eyes are almost closed and he’s biting into the gag and Feliciano’s hips are rocking back a little into Ludwig’s crotch and now is most likely a good time for Feliciano to pull away and reach for the lube and condoms.

He does.

Pushing down Ludwig’s boxers, Feliciano rolls the condom onto him easily, and then meets his eyes and smiles, cocking his head. One-handed, he undoes his pants and wriggles out of them, boxers following, and makes very sure that Ludwig’s eyes are fixed on him as he slicks his fingers and slowly, slowly pushes one inside himself.

 _Oh_ …oh, that’s  _good_ , and Feliciano pants a little, twisting the finger deeper inside himself and biting his lower lip. He gets used to it, quickly, and the second finger makes him tip his head back and let out a low moan—there,  _there_ —and Ludwig is watching and his breath catches and shakes in his chest when Feliciano slips in a third one and spreads them apart until he gasps, eyes wide.

“ _Mm_ —I—Ludwig, are you ready?” He says breathlessly, wiggling his fingers a few last times. Ludwig nods, and Feliciano smiles and spreads his legs, lowers himself onto Ludwig and holds Ludwig’s hips still against the covers with one hand, guiding himself with the other.

“Oh,” he sighs when he’s fully settled. “Oh,  _Ludwig_ …” Feliciano stretches out, bracing his hands on Ludwig’s shoulders and tightening the hold of his thighs around Ludwig’s waist before beginning to roll his hips slowly.

Underneath him, Ludwig moans, muffled by the gag, and Feliciano drinks in the sound and the sight of the bound man prone beneath him and so, so beautiful with his hair falling disorderly in his face and his blue eyes hazy and soft and his blush spreading down across his chest. So beautiful, bucking unevenly from the sheets, straining to meet him, and Feliciano leans close until he can feel Ludwig’s heart beating through Feliciano’s thin shirt and quickens his pace a bit, rolling his hips more emphatically and clutching Ludwig’s shoulders, nails almost digging in.

One thrust hits  _that spot_  and Feliciano sees sparks at the corners of his vision and lets out a high, shuddering moan and tries for that again and again, reaching down to bring himself off, and his back curves and he presses close and closer and Ludwig is  _so good_ , so good and obedient for him and so good inside him, and Feliciano tells him how good he is, how sweet and obedient and good,  _his_  Ludwig—

—His legs are shaking, he’s about to come, and little noises are crowding behind Ludwig’s gag, little begging noises that pool at the base of Feliciano’s spine, muffled pleas and moans, and the  _look_  on his face when Feliciano tightens around him and moves even faster—eyebrows sliding up, eyes almost shut, straight white teeth digging into the gag—oh God, the look on his face pushes Feliciano over into orgasm, leaving him panting and blinking the white away from the edges of his vision.

He lifts himself off of Ludwig, who is still hard and trembling a little, and reaches up to remove the gag. When he does, Ludwig mouths at his fingers a bit—Jesus, his tongue—and Feliciano grins to himself, still catching his breath, and swipes his fingers through the come on Ludwig’s stomach. He presses them to Ludwig’s thin, soft lips.

“You made me make a mess,” he coos. “Clean it?”

“Yes, sir,” and Ludwig opens his mouth and licks them clean, soft quick swipes of the tongue.

“And what do you say?” Feliciano prompts gently.

“Thank you, sir.”

Feliciano squeaks gladly and pets through Ludwig’s hair, sliding back onto him. The corner of Ludwig’s mouth quirks up a bit, and then he sucks in another breath when Feliciano rocks his hips back a bit.

“Oh, is that getting a little uncomfortable?”

Ludwig nods, eyes sliding shut.

“I’ll help,” and Feliciano smiles beatifically and reaches again for the lube. He covers his fingers in it again and leans forward to kiss Ludwig, swallowing down his moan when Feliciano slowly, so slowly and carefully, slides three fingers in together bit-by-bit.

Ludwig’s back arches and he whimpers quietly, and Feliciano holds his fingers still so Ludwig can get used to them and watches the way Ludwig’s fingers curl around each other and the ropes, the contrast between white knuckles and dark cords. He’s tight around Feliciano’s fingers, and Feliciano strokes at his stomach with his other hand and murmurs words of comfort until Ludwig relaxes back onto the bed.

Feliciano wiggles his fingers slightly, face inches from Ludwig’s own, and Ludwig tenses—stomach flattening, arms stiffening—before relaxing again. There’s another whimper, mostly bitten back, and Ludwig rolls his hips forwards the tiniest bit, eyes closed tight.

“It’s—it’s not hurting, is it?” Feliciano whispers, cradling Ludwig’s face in his free hand.

Ludwig pauses—his Adam’s apple bobs, once—and he exhales. “Not—not really, sir. Be careful, though, please, sir?”

“Of course,” and Feliciano kisses the tight lines from around his mouth, kisses the tension from his lips. He moves his fingers as slowly as he can, curling them or wriggling them or moving them in and out until Ludwig lets out tiny, low moans and chases Feliciano’s movements with his hips. Ludwig is still hard, too, hard and breathing shakily, and he makes a noise that could be disappointment when Feliciano draws out his fingers.

Feliciano rummages, quickly, and comes back from the nightstand with one of their vibrators, a decent-sized remote-control one. He spreads the lube over it carefully and begins to nudge it in just the tiniest bit. Propping himself up on one hand, Feliciano watches as he pushes the vibrator in slowly, as Ludwig parts his legs wider and his mouth drops open and his fingers curl around each other and his toes curl in the sheets. Once it’s all the way in, Feliciano strokes Ludwig almost absently, and Ludwig twitches into his hand.

Ludwig does come when Feliciano switches on the vibrator to check how it’s working, in a short gasp and a half-moan, jerking forwards into Feliciano’s hand one last time. Feliciano switches off the vibrator and rolls off the condom and lets him lie, stretching alongside him and rubbing languidly up and down his chest. Reaching back up, he unties Ludwig’s hands and slowly brings them back down, rubbing them warm and alive again and kissing the palms quickly before rolling both of them onto their sides. 

Breathing softly, Ludwig rests his head against Feliciano’s shoulder. He shifts every once in a while, trying to alleviate the pressure from the toy, most likely. Feliciano strokes his hair a few times.

“D’you want to get up soon?”

Ludwig nods slowly, not the crisp of his usual movements but something almost gentle and languid. Something calm; and Feliciano can give him calm and loosen his shoulders and take the world off them because Ludwig works so hard but like this, like this he can give everything to Feliciano and fall.

He also seems almost to be waiting, and then Feliciano remembers and snuggles closer to him, resting his palms on Ludwig’s cheeks, and leans in close and whispers “And you were  _so good_!”, kissing the tip of Ludwig’s nose.

Ludwig smiles a tiny bit, blushing.

“Are you going to mind if I put the leash on you?” Feliciano feels about ready to get back up now.

“No, sir.”

Feliciano pats him on the cheek and rolls off the bed, getting to his feet a little uneasily. After getting back into his pants, he fishes in the back of the bottom drawer of the nightstand—really, Ludwig is good at organizing, but if Feliciano left organizing the nightstand to him he’d end up hiding all the really fun stuff at the bottom of the closet—and pulls out the clip-on leash, which he has to shake loose of a ball gag first.

…Maybe he should leave a bit of the organizing to Ludwig. Ah, well.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head to the side. Ludwig does, standing and pulling his boxers back up, and obediently lets Feliciano clip the leash onto his collar.

Wrapping the end of the leash around his hand, Feliciano beams up at Ludwig and chirps “Do you want to go bake something?”

* * *

  
In the kitchen, Feliciano turns the radio up loud to cheery instrumental music and hums along to it, bouncing in his place seated on the counter and kicking his legs a bit.

They collected all the ingredients first, since where Ludwig is now is out of leash range of about half the pantry and Feliciano does not want Ludwig to go far  _or_  for himself to have to get up, so Feliciano sits and holds the end of the leash and watches Ludwig mix together the dry ingredients.

And might just flick on the switch on the remote control hidden in his other hand.

Ludwig jumps a bit and glances at him before clearing his throat and going back to the whisking.

Midway through stirring together the wet and dry ingredients, Feliciano turns the vibrator up a setting, keeping his face as innocent as possible.

He cycles through the lowest settings, almost at random, watching Ludwig try and fail not to squirm—he turns it off when Ludwig is putting the cake pan in the oven, though, because otherwise he might drop it and that would be horrible—and Ludwig says nothing when Feliciano licks the bowl, because he is  _not_  allowed to scold Feliciano about hygiene or patience right now. So Feliciano licks the bowl and swipes some of the batter onto Ludwig’s nose so he has an excuse to kiss it besides the fact that he does have a pretty cute nose and holds him close, not just with the leash but with an arm around his shoulders, and talks to him about nothing in particular.

And leaves the vibrator on a low buzz as they ice the cake, watching Ludwig bite his lip and watching the way his boxers begin to tent but Ludwig does not do anything about it, because Feliciano has not told him to.

And smiles at him and tries to say with his eyes  _so obedient, so good, my Ludwig_.

* * *

  
Dinner is a bit more complicated, because Feliciano hasn’t let go of Ludwig’s leash all afternoon—he just wants Ludwig close, all the time—and Ludwig is having a  _little_  bit of trouble concentrating considering how Feliciano’s been shifting the settings on the vibrator higher and has spent most of the last few hours in and out of Ludwig’s lap or accidentally-on-purpose brushing against him, and besides dinner is an important meal and requires a lot of preparation.

Part of which means that Ludwig should probably get dressed.

Which is actually good, because it mean Feliciano can watch and help, which is always fun.

He helps Ludwig roll up the stockings and clip the garters on, since to be completely honest Feliciano is better with this sort of thing than Ludwig, but Ludwig looks  _amazing_  in the soft grey lace and the panties even if he blushes bright red and avoids Feliciano’s eyes (but he still kisses back, soft and compliant, so lovely) except then they have to hurry back to the kitchen in case the water boils over.

It’s a  _lot_  easier to see Ludwig’s butt like this, and also to see exactly how the last few hours have been for him—the panties were designed for male anatomy but they’re just a little small on Ludwig.

He kneels next to Feliciano, as he has done every meal, and Feliciano holds his leash with one hand and brushes the knuckles of that hand down the back of Ludwig’s neck over collar and spine and warm skin and not-faded-enough (never faded enough) scars. There is no hesitation when Ludwig lays his head on Feliciano’s thigh, and when Feliciano hands him down ravioli a few at a time Ludwig blushes again but eats them from his hand (God, the way he licks just a bit at Feliciano’s fingers).

About halfway through dinner, Feliciano decides to start. He tugs on Ludwig’s leash a little, enough to make him raise his head, and Ludwig shuffles around to Feliciano’s front, still on his knees. He settles back on his heels and looks up at Feliciano attentively, back still straight. Giving the leash another tug so that Ludwig is pulled forward and catches himself on the edge of the chair, Feliciano parts his legs a little wider and closes his eyes as Ludwig leans forward and cautiously, shyly mouths at the front of Feliciano’s pants.

 _Oh_ …

Feliciano tries to pay attention to finishing his dinner, but Ludwig drags his tongue and nuzzles at his crotch and to  _hell_  with dinner for now, Feliciano undoes his pants as fast as he can.

“You want?” He says, breathless, just to make sure, and Ludwig says “yes, please, sir” and his eyes are so, so blue and Feliciano holds Ludwig’s chin in his hand and runs his thumb along Ludwig’s lips and guides himself in with the other.

Ludwig moans softly around him and begins to suck, and Feliciano keeps a few fingers under his chin, tilting his head back so that he can see Ludwig’s eyes. God, God, his tongue and the way it laps quickly at veins and sensitive points and the slick pressure as Feliciano pushes in farther in tiny increments until he can feel Ludwig’s throat work around him—he stays still, then, sudden movements aren’t a good idea—and curls his free hand around the back of Ludwig’s head and holds him in place.

Ludwig’s face is flushed red, eyes half-shut, and Feliciano takes his hand from Ludwig’s chin—the leash is still in it, wrapped around his palm—and runs it across his jaw, the bump that appears in his cheek as Feliciano rocks his hips back and forth, his high cheekbones and his hair.

He’s not quite experienced, it’s a little messy and a  _lot_  wet and Feliciano has to keep pulling back so that Ludwig can breathe before pushing into the beautiful tightness of his throat, making Ludwig trust himself to Feliciano’s mercy.

And lucky for him that Feliciano is merciful, he thinks, but how could he not be when presented with such astounding trust and love and devotion, when Ludwig goes under and trusts that Feliciano will bring him back up at the end of it all and piece him back together? How could Feliciano hit and hurt and break when Ludwig will bend for him and let him do this?

So when he is all the way in, when Ludwig’s mouth is nearly flush with his hips and he’s filled so close to breaking, Feliciano pets through his hair and tells him how lovely and good he is, does not force himself in and out.

Gradually, though, he reaches into his pocket where the remote is and shifts it through the settings, higher and higher until Ludwig moans around him and his hips jerk, and Feliciano leaves it on almost the highest setting and watches for a second through the growing haze in his head as Ludwig trembles and moans, legs falling wider apart.

Dinner is  _not_  going to get finished, and the chair is kind of uncomfortable, so Feliciano eases Ludwig’s head off of him and stands, legs shaking, and says “Follow me,” pulling him along by the leash to the bedroom, and as soon as he reaches the bed he half-snaps, half-breathes “On your knees” and Ludwig obeys and when Feliciano sits and says “suck” it’s not even half a second before Ludwig does, all eagerness to please and dishevelment and flush creeping down beneath his collar and across his shoulders and little  _mm_ s and he’s shaking, trying to grind back on the toy, and Feliciano can’t tear his eyes away from any of this, from strong Ludwig on his knees for him and sucking him off, except this  _thing_  he does with his tongue makes Feliciano close his eyes and roll his head back. Again Feliciano pushes Ludwig’s head down slowly until he can feel the hot-smooth pressure of his throat and the soft lap of his tongue right at that spot where Feliciano likes it—

—he can’t hold out much longer at all, and he nudges Ludwig’s head almost all the way off so he’s just licking at the tip, and that plus Feliciano stroking the base, quickly, sliding easily from spit and pre-come, finally makes him come, doubling over and shaking through it, letting out a breathless  _aah_.

He pulls back.

There’s come on Ludwig’s face—none in the eyes, fortunately, Ludwig  _hates_  getting it in his eyes—and he’s blushing fit to beat the band and—Feliciano looks down—the panties are definitely small for him and they must be uncomfortable.

He should help with that.

Soon.

But right now his head is too foggy for him to do much more than slide forwards off the bed to lean against Ludwig, warm even through the clothes Feliciano is wearing, and sigh in contentment. Ludwig leans against him, too, and quietly licks clean the fingers Feliciano cleans his face with, and squirms a little, letting out faint moans and closing his eyes, eyebrows sliding up.

Once Feliciano’s head has cleared up, he goes for the remote one last time and flicks it up to the highest setting, and Ludwig  _whines_ , hips jerking forwards, and a smile spreads slow across Feliciano’s face. He reaches behind Ludwig, pushes down the panties—giving him a quick squeeze into the bargain—and, taking hold of the toy, begins moving it in and out.

Ludwig’s hips  _jolt_ , and he clutches at Feliciano and lets out a succession of little  _ah_ s, and Feliciano tries angling it differently—no luck there, but he gets quite an interesting squeak—and again and again until—

—the next moan out of Ludwig’s mouth is absolutely  _filthy_  and contains about half a “there” and goes straight down Feliciano’s spine to curl up warm and heavy at its base. He’s beginning to get hard again, and redoubles his efforts until Ludwig is panting and digging his short nails into Feliciano’s shoulders and moaning almost entirely incoherently and  _oh_  he wishes he’d thought to take video but it’s a little late for that now so instead he pulls the toy almost all the way out and then shoves it back in so that Ludwig cries out and his back arches.

And Feliciano is about half-hard by now, but he does want his Ludwig to work for him, so he pulls back—part of him rebels at this when he hears the whine of disappointment from Ludwig—and guides one of Ludwig’s broad hands to the toy and seats himself back on the edge of the bed.

“W-well?” He says.

“S-sir, I— _aaah_ —I,  _please_ —”

“Please what?” It’s a miracle that Feliciano’s voice is still steady, that he hasn’t just thrown himself at Ludwig.

“Please—fuck me, please  _please_ , sir I—”

“Well, you’re asking very nicely—” —Ludwig stills as much as he can, looks up at him in hopeful anticipation— “—b-but I think you’ll have to show me how much you want it.”

There’s a moment, stretching long, and then Ludwig bows his head and says “Yes, sir” and, raising himself up onto his knees, reaches back and begins to move the toy in and out of himself. Before long, he’s moaning again, and Feliciano watches—watches his head tip back and his mouth fall open and his legs spread wider—and palms himself, moaning not a little.

Ludwig moves the toy erratically, in sharp quick bursts and then deep slow motions, until he’s panting and keening in the way Feliciano knows well, so well, and thrusting back against the toy, and oh oh Feliciano should’ve made a video, he  _should_  have, but Ludwig’s next gasp is a very familiar sound indeed and he doesn’t want Ludwig to come, not yet, not without Feliciano…

He kneels in front of Ludwig and places a hand gently on his wrist, and that’s enough to stop him, but Ludwig moans in half-disappointment half-anticipation when Feliciano pulls the toy out of him and switches it off.

Hauling Ludwig back to his feet by the leash, Feliciano looks up at him and breathes “On the bed, on all fours,” and wastes no time in grabbing another condom and rolling it on while Ludwig half-moans “Yes, sir” and follows directions. Feliciano climbs onto the bed after him, shoving down his pants far enough that the zipper won’t chafe at Ludwig, and pulls Ludwig’s panties to his knees and it’s next to no time before he pushes inside of Ludwig in one motion and oh oh  _oh_  it’s  _so good_  and Ludwig fairly screams  _yes_  beneath him, arching his back. Grabbing for his hips, Feliciano sets up a quick pace that leaves Ludwig breathless and moaning, making all the noises he’s too shy to make otherwise, and his face is still red but he makes them now, screams and gasps and moans and begs for harder faster please sir  _please_  because with Feliciano he can let go and drop from his hands to his elbows and curl his fingers into fists.

And Feliciano holds him half by the hips and half by the garter straps and fucks him like he’s wanted to ever since Ludwig accepted the collar that morning, hard and fast and deep, and leans close to him and whispers how beautiful Ludwig is like this, doesn’t he like it, what a good job he’s doing serving Feliciano, praises him and kisses his shoulder before every bite. He can feel the heat building and pooling behind his abdomen already, but he staves it off and reaches around and down between Ludwig’s thighs.

Ludwig is caught, momentarily, between fucking himself on Feliciano’s hand or on Feliciano, but Feliciano decides for him because every thrust knocks Ludwig’s hips forward into Feliciano’s hand. Feliciano is gasping and moaning too, nails digging into Ludwig’s hip, and his thrusts are becoming more and more erratic and quick, but Ludwig is closer, broad frame shaking and squirming in the way Feliciano knows he’d rather die than let anyone else know about.

For Feliciano, everything else goes away: just him, and Ludwig beneath him, and the bed. Nothing but Ludwig pushing into every movement and fulfilled pleas for harder, deeper, faster; nothing but the feel of skin and lace beneath Feliciano’s hands.

It’s only a few more thrusts before Ludwig comes, hard, all over Feliciano’s hand, back arching one last time and crying out wordlessly before letting his head drop back down and his hips keep bucking shallowly into Feliciano’s hand. Feliciano gasps and whines— _God_ , he tightens—and pants out “C-can I ke— _ohGod_ —keep going?”

Ludwig nods, and Feliciano does, until Ludwig drops further from his elbows to just ass-in-the-air and can’t do more than pant and keep pushing back but oh God Feliciano can’t hold it any longer and he pulls Ludwig’s hips to his one last time and comes with a low moan, shaking.

His upper body strength isn’t phenomenal, and Feliciano’s arms give and he collapses on top of Ludwig, breathing raggedly and leaving little closed-lips kisses up and down his bitten, marked shoulders and what parts of his neck are accessible.

They lie there, trembling, exhausted, and then Feliciano heaves out a breath and sits up, rolling off the condom, and with commendable effort rolls Ludwig onto his back. He checks, panting, that Ludwig is breathing regularly—yes—not bruised—yes—not afraid—he cuddles as close as he can to make sure of that, and Ludwig lets out a tiny, faint whimper and Feliciano whispers “I’ve got you” over and over, stroking his hair away from his forehead.

He  _has_  to comfort Ludwig first. Simple as that. So he unclips the leash and grabs at the tissue box to wipe him off and manages, limbs heavy with exhaustion, to pull the blankets up around them into something of a nest, and curls up around Ludwig to stave off the cold, gathering Ludwig’s head to his chest and kissing his forehead.

Somewhere on the floor, there’s a bag, and Feliciano crawls to the edge of the bed and reaches for it, pulls out the bottle of water and the plain crackers. He wraps himself back around Ludwig, coaxing him into taking a few sips of the water and eating a few of the crackers, whispering  _so brave so brave you’re so brave sweetheart you did so well I’m proud you’re so strong and beautiful and brave_. Eventually, slowly, Ludwig stops shivering, breathing evenly, and wraps his arms around Feliciano and opens his eyes.

They lie, breathing quietly, until Feliciano suggests a bath, and then they stagger to the bathroom and Feliciano shucks the remainder of his clothing and then unclips Ludwig’s garters and rolls the stockings back off, unsteady on his own legs but he has to take care of Ludwig now, and runs them both a bath.

In the hot bath, surrounded by steam and pressing close to Ludwig, Feliciano lets himself fall back to Earth and buries his face in Ludwig’s shoulder, almost begging  _are you all right are you okay please_  and Ludwig turns around in the tub and hugs him close, muscular tired arms and murmurs  _I’m okay I’m okay you were wonderful_ liebchen _you were amazing_. They stay in the bath for a long time, just holding, Feliciano rubbing small circles with his fingertips into Ludwig’s back and Ludwig stroking Feliciano’s curly hair.

And they collapse into bed with all the extra blankets and fall asleep like that, legs tangled and fingers interlaced and cleaning up the floor can happen in the morning because the breath of the man next to them is so much more important, and so is the thump of his heart and the warmth of his arms.

(In the morning, Ludwig kneels in front of Feliciano and Feliciano unbuckles the collar and kisses where it chafed and makes him breakfast, urging him to sleep in, and when he comes back with a tray of French toast he sees Ludwig asleep, forehead smooth and face young and calm, and thinks  _he looks so sweet like this_.)


End file.
